


Crimson

by tubofskippy



Series: Peanut Butter Prompts [1]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Dead Gaston (Disney), Ficlet, Nonbinary Character, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 20:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tubofskippy/pseuds/tubofskippy
Summary: Prompt: "Stanfou - Nails" submitted by anon.Lefou and Stanley let go of a part of their past while Lefou paints Stanley's nails.





	Crimson

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started writing ficlets on tumblr, where someone would send me a ship along with a word that I would incorporate into a very short story. I've decided to put them into a series here!

"You're stronger than most men I know," Stanley admits. His voice is quiet and gentle, but fills the lifeless room like candlelight. 

"Hold still."

"To be able to carry on this way despite what you've lost..." Stanley watches the corners of his mustache, but they don't form the warm and familiar shape of his smile. 

"He wasn't what everyone thought he was," Lefou says, dipping a brush in red polish and spreading it onto Stanley's third finger, the vision of what it would look like accommodated by a ring in the back of his mind. 

"He wasn't what you thought he was." 

Lefou's hands brush over Stanley's in small, slow, careful movements. The paint stains his cuticles due to Lefou's inexperience with the activity. He licks his own index finger and wipes away the crimson liquid as if he is cleaning a wound. 

"It doesn't matter," Lefou responds. He doesn't look up from what he's concentrating on, noting the difference between Stanley's long smooth nails and his own; rough and bitten. "He's gone." 

Stanley hangs his head in silence, regretting that he had brought up the subject. He focuses on holding his hands completely still, waiting on the smallest transformation that meant more to him than Lefou knew; the drips of color slowly replacing a feeling of dysphoria with a feeling of contentment. 

"Besides," Lefou chirps, slipping his brush back into the vile, "I have you."

The words jumpstart his heart, the way the cool substance stimulates his fingertips. Wearing polish is an experience that Stanley had always wanted to try. He loves the way it looks, drawing attention to the gentle hands he uses to hold Lefou's with. 

"Merci, mon cher."


End file.
